The war broke out on October 7th of last year. My news feed was flooded with terrifying images of terrorists infiltrating Israeli neighborhoods, a female hostage bleeding between her legs and dragged by her hair in the streets of Gaza, and festival-goers running for their lives. There wasn’t much time to think of anything much apart from existential survival as the event rapidly unfolded.

But one thought that did surface once the dust settled a bit was: “Why haven’t my Arab Christian friends asked if I’m okay?”

Ouch. It felt like someone stuck a knife in my heart and twisted it a little. I was torn between the temptation of offense and the fear of losing my friendships, friendships I had worked hard to uphold and protect.

Before I knew it, one of those friendships was about to be tested. After being physically separated by the war, I finally saw my Arab Christian friend, a beautiful and precious soul I would readily lay down my life for in a heartbeat.

Before meeting, I prayed that...

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